I uncurl from my sleep and stretch, allowing my front paws to touch your arm. You’re still sound asleep and I’m hungry. I knead on your arm, but you just roll away. That will never do. I stretch a few more times and jump to my feet and come up by your face. I butt my head against yours. With groggy eyes you glance at me and rub my ears. Still you don’t arise. I decide you must be told what to do, so I start to talk to you.
“Oh, Shamu, why do you insist on such early mornings? Okay. I’ll get up.”
You slowly grab your robe to head downstairs. I’m way ahead of you, talking all the way. You set out fresh food for me then fix your coffee. I pick at my food, then saunter around the kitchen looking out the patio door. I know you’ll never let me outside. How I would like to get out, but only if you’ll come with me.
I stretch out on the couch and watch you until you come and also sit on the couch. I roll over and approach to sit on your lap. You know I want to be close to you, but you never sit still for very long.
Your daughter arrives, and I approach her. She will pick me up and cuddle with me. I purr and butt my head against her. She’s grand and I love her, but you are still my preference.
The end has arrived. It was time to purge the agave before it became rigid and too tough to cut. The blooms hosted bees, honey birds and some butterflies.
When the stalk fell, a mild sweet fragrance filled the air.
Pieces cut to fit the green waste mounded on the ground.
Then each was stabbed with a pitch fork and dropped in the bin.
Smaller pieces were scooped in.
Few pieces wait for next week’s trash collection day.
Check out the close-up bloom. Each of those tiny tennacles were feeding zones for all the flying critters that hovered around the blooms once they opened. After sitting in the sun for several days, there was no fragrance, and no visiting creatures. This piece will join its kin in the bin next week.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this marvel of nature with me.
We’ve yet to determine what will be planted in the agave’s former location. But the next selection will take into consideration the little bridge and mature size of the plant.
Thanks for watching this amazing transition with me. It’s not over yet, but we’re getting closer to the end. I expected the flowers to bloom before the death cycle became evident. So, future photos will have fewer leaves on the bottom, and perhaps there will be yellow flowers. Or not…
Change is coming. Last week I thought this plant looked different. Then decided, maybe not. By Saturday, I knew a bloom was coming. The gardener remembers planting this agave 30 years ago.
I’ve heard the bloom growth is phenomenally fast. The following displays what can happen in only two days.
Besides growing fast, the blooms are supposed to be spectacular. Expect periodic photo updates.
It will be fun to watch, and a wee bit bittersweet. With the bloom, comes death. It will be sad to loose this plant as it is a showcase specimen on the pathway to a patio area. Perhaps it’ll spawn another.